


The Something

by msar27



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-01
Packaged: 2018-02-11 09:14:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2062446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msar27/pseuds/msar27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A case has Sherlock down when John picks him back up</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Something

**Author's Note:**

> So, this was kind of my first fanfic/headcanon/thing. Sorry if it's not great ^.^ I tried

Laying in bed mulling over information from the case he got this morning, Sherlock heard a ding coming from the living room. He did not wish to be disturbed, and began sifting through the corners of his mind palace for a piece of evidence he may have missed. Another ding. Dismissing it once again, Sherlock turned away from the open bedroom door and tryed his best to focus. Something other than the case was on his mind. As if the something knew what Sherlock was thinking, he was stading in the doorway a moment later.

Knocking gently, John politely informed Sherlock that he had a text message from Lestrade.

"Not now, John. Can't you see I'm busy?" Sherlock rolled back over, onto his back. Facing the ceiling, he closed his eyes and crossed his hands over his chest. His robe was partially open, and John could see the scar. Noticing John was still watching, Sherlock hastily closed the top of his robe and turned once again, this time facing the door. He leaned up and rested his head on his hand. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude. It just seems as if I'm missing something. This case is my first in nearly a year. It's been hours, and I've got nothing."

He truly looked devastated. This case was hitting him harder than any had recently. "That's not true, Sherlock." Sherlock, always one to be overly intuitive, looked at John with sad, quizzical eyes. "You've got me," John added, meeting Sherlock's eyes with a faint smile playing about his lips. He slowly made his way to the side of the bed and grabbed Sherlock's hand. His head fell to his pillow and he now had to look up to keep John's gaze. John knelt down beside Sherlock and delicately placed a kiss on his slightly parted lips.

Sherlock's eyes were still blissfully closed when he finally whispered, "Thank you, John. Thank you for everything." His eyes slowly fluttered open to find John inches away, smiling, and he leaned in for another kiss. As their lips touched, then their tongues moments later, thoughts and emotions overwhelmed his mind and the remnants of his current mind palace came crumling down. He began to sit up, only to be playfully pushed down as John climbed onto the bed to join him, untying and taking his robe off in the process. Adrenaline was pulsing through his body. Every touch, every kiss, every gentle caress John made to his bare skin sent shivvers down his spine and throughout his entire body, making him yearn for more. Sherlock reached up and began unbuttoning John's shirt in a storm of recently ignored emotions. Upon reaching the lowest button, he paused everything and looked at John, concerned. "John, " he bagan. "I can't. Not now."

John slowly stopped his show of affection and sat up, resting his back on Sherlock's raised knees. "I'm sorry, love. You know I mean good. I'm trying my best to be here for you when you don't let me." He looked down, at Sherlock's bare chest. He absently began tracing the curves of muscle on Sherlock's stomach, thinking that Sherlock was upset with him.

"I always let you, John. You are the one person I allow to see me like this. Do you know how hard it is? To be in the situation I'm in, bouncing back and forth from the police and officials to here?" Sherlock glanced at John, who was still running his fingers along the lines of his body. He tried to ignore the wonderful feeling it gave him and continued. "I work in the real world, John. I witness death and the path of destruction leading to it every day. When you're not by my side, I feel empty," he said. "Alone." He looked up again, this time looking into John's eyes. They were glistened over and staring intently at him. His brows were furrowed, his face as a whole sad.

"Sherlock, " John began, leaning forward to rest his head on Sherlock's chest. He closed his eyes and focused on Sherlock. The rate of breathing picked up ever so slightly, and he clearly heard Sherlock's heart beating fairly quickyly. Beating for him, as Sherlock had once said. "You will never be alone as long as you've got me. I'm just as broken as you are, and believe it or not I have got some idea of what you're going through. I would never leave you, Sherlock. You're not alone. I promise." Ever so slightly, John kissed what he could reach and Sherlock closed his eyes again. He looked pained. It broke John's heart to see him like this, yet there wasn't a thing he could do to help but be there. He learned that years ago, and he accepted it for what it was.

"I like when you kiss my chin," Sherlock muttered sleepily. He had been up since early this morning and he was exhausted. The pain on his face began to dissipate as he let himself drift off. John sighed quietly and kissed Sherlock's chin again, his lips lingering there for a moment. Slowly, he lifted himself off of Sherlock so he could sleep unconstrained. John got up to turn the light off and returned to his side of the bed. He sat down and quielty changed into the pajama pants Sherlock got him for his birthday. His eyes had not adjusted yet to the dark, but he found the cover and pulled it over him as he lowered himself down. Turning toward Sherlock, who was still facing the ceiling, John propped himself up. By the moonlight sifted through the open bedroom window, he could see Sherlock's lips still slightly parted from his lst sentence. John couldn't resist, and lightly kissed Sherlock's forehead as he began softly snoring. John rested his head on his pillow, right beside Sherlock's. Finally closing his eyes, he put his arm around Sherlock and let his mind wander aimlessly. He was at peace, and although Sherlock was difficult to deal with, John truly loved the man in his embrace.


End file.
